


| a study in chestnut |

by starr_chiild



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Other, Sorry guys, brents a millionaire, detective shane, eugene's a cook, jens the gardener, neds a driver, police officer sara, so y'know those old shows, stevens a butler, thats this, trophy husband ryan, where theres a detective and a trophy wife, will update tags as we go along, yeah - Freeform, zach's the newbie police officer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-13 10:08:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12981768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starr_chiild/pseuds/starr_chiild
Summary: The death of a multi-billionaire rings out in the Los Angeles air. Foul play is suspected.Detective Madej and Officer Rubin are called in to solve it.Among the blood and chaos of the mansion, it all stands still around the ever beautiful Ryan Bergara.The eye is the calmest section of any hurricane.And Ryan's are chestnut.





	1. a call

**Author's Note:**

> yes, first unsolved fic. it was only a matter of time.  
> it's funny, I actually watched it when it began. I was curious about the video and watched it fully. I guess I'm a hipster because I watched it before it was cool? Like......rip.....  
> I never thought I'd ship it. Like, I was like, cool dynamic. Great hosts. Best Friends. I support.  
> And then something happened and I turned on the dark side and now I can't go back. 
> 
> So, here's an AU that I've always wanted to write because.....乁( ◔ ౪◔)ㄏ

Shane hated early mornings. 

But, no one can control when murderers strike.

Shane had rolled in bed to answer the ringing cell phone on his dresser. “Detective Madej speaking,” he managed to grumble with closed eyes.

“We got a call for a potential murder of Brent Bennett,” the cool voice on the other end of the call stated, skipping around any pleasantries. 

“ _ Murder _ , murder?” Shane instantly woke up.

“Potential. All we know is his husband called us in a panic this morning after finding him dead in bed.”

Shane sighed. “Well, good morning to you too, Andrew.”

“It’s a big celebrity case. So, we need our best duo on the job.”

“Sara’s already up?”

“Yes, and she’s on her way to pick you up in five minutes.”

“Disgusting.”

“I’ll make sure to let the superiors know that was your response.”

“Dick.”

“Ah, my name isn’t Richard, sir.”

“Is Zach on the case as well?”

“Gotta break him in a little bit.”

“Damn it.”

“You should be getting ready. You know how Officer Rubin feels about running late for cases.”

“And you should be answering phones.”

“Which I will be doing as soon as this conversation is over.”

Shane growled as he sat up in bed. “Then, get back to doing your job.”

“Have fun with the investigation, Detective Madej.”

“I won’t.”

* * *

 

The Bennett Manor loomed in front of them. The large white structure permanently carved into the side of the mountains, overlooking the large city of Los Angeles. The grounds around it kept a perpetual green and expertly trimmed along with the concrete fountains that sprinkled the grounds. It seemed to be almost a parody of the Palace of Versaille, with looming open windows and huge sweeping staircases. The floors were made of marble and the place was expansive. The place held so many rooms, not even the staff knew the number. On the grounds, there was a large beautiful blue swimming pool alongside a tennis court. The garage that was on the other side of the huge circle drive located at the front of the house, held a multitude of sports cars and other modes of transportation.

To get a call that the owner of the house had been killed was  _ shocking _ to say the least. 

“I wonder how many interviews we’ll have to conduct,” Sara hummed from beside Shane as they walked up the steps to the colossal wooden doors at the front of the house. 

“Don’t remind me,” Shane responded, huffing. His badge was already in his hand, along with a large cup of coffee. He absolutely hated it, but getting up at 5:14 am due to a potential homicide call would require pure caffeine to get through. 

“Never in my years would I imagine that we’d be investigating the death of Brent Bennett,” Sara remarked as they reached the top of the stairs.

“Me neither,” Shane shrugged. “But, somehow, I’m not surprised.”

“Why?” Sara inquired. She shifted as they reached the doors, her dark police shirt causing contrast to her sparkling police badge. 

“The man had enemies,” Shane responded. “You remember a year or two ago when there was almost a deadly riot against him. And the constant death threats that can be seen online. He’s not some innocent young man.”

“You think this is a homicide?”

“I think it’s a possibility.”

“That’s rarely ever the case with these types.”

“I know. But, it’s 5:30 in the morning, I’m still half asleep and dreaming.”

Sara laughed at the quip and rang the doorbell.

“The rest of the investigation squad is on their way, right?” Shane inquired.

“Yeah, Zach’s leading them up here,” Sara nodded.

“He better not be late,  _ again _ ,” Shane grumbled.

“He’s still new, Shane,” Sara said. “He’s human and makes mistakes.”

“I’m human and I haven’t made a mistake yet,” Shane stated.

“Well, there’s still a doubt about the first part of that statement.”

Shane opened his mouth to respond, but the large doors in front of him opened.


	2. trophy husband

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOOPS I'm GONNA UPLOAD ANOTHER BECAUSE THE FIRST CHAPTER IS TOO SHORT AHA!!!  
> so get another spicy set up meatball and then we'll get into the main course
> 
> rip  
> sorry that this won't happen again  
> should I have saved it? Prolly but im a risky bitch so

Ryan Bergara-Bennett was an infamous trophy husband.

He came from nowhere, suddenly dating one of the richest men in the nation, and then married him after a year. He was living a billionaire’s lifestyle and had barely worked a day in his life. Brent was seven years older than him, which was pretty tame for age differences in such situations. But still, Ryan was only twenty-two when they got married, while Brent was budding against thirty.

At first, Ryan was _madly_ in love with this strong man that didn’t ever need to look at a price tag and practically threw expensive gifts like they were nothing. He loved the ability Brent had to make him laugh. He loved that Brent didn’t matter where he came from and that Brent made Ryan feel like the whole world revolved around him. He loved how he felt pampered and how everyone knew who he was.

Yes, Ryan knew that Brent was probably only in love with him for lustful reasons, but it was the only time in Ryan’s life that he felt like someone actually cared about him.

He was only twenty-one; he didn’t know what the real world was like.

They had bumped into each other at a coffee shop off of Ryan’s college campus. Brent had been presenting something about entrepreneuring and Ryan had just needed to study.

Ryan was walking out while Brent was walking in. They collided in the middle of the shop, Ryan’s binder and textbook in his hand slapping to the floor.

“Sorry!” Ryan had practically yelled, instantly crouching to the ground, picking up loose papers that had scattered from the binder.

“Oh, no, it’s my fault,” Brent had said, also bending down to help collect papers. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“No, it’s fine-”

Both of their hands touched a paper at the same time. It was straight out of a cheesy romantic comedy.

Ryan looked up and made eye contact with Brent, a blush flooding to his cheeks as he felt a spark in his hand.

_Holy fuck, he was touching one of the richest bachelors in the nation._

Brent just gave him a small smirk.

“I’m Brent Bennett. What’s your name?”

“R-r-ryan Bergara.”

He should have known that smirk would be his downfall.

 

Dating a billionaire was _amazing_.

Ryan got huge floods of flowers along with giant teddy bears. He got hundred dollar gift cards and expensive clothing. He also got to ride in very, _very_ pricey cars with Brent or even a driver at the wheel.

They once stopped out on a cliff near the construction of Brent’s newest mansion. The stars were bright and the music from the stereo was dim. And though Ryan believed that an axe murderer could easily kill them with no hesitation due to the darkness and lack of civilization, he felt comfortable with Brent’s presence beside him.

“I’m thinking about letting go of this Reventón in favor of the new Lamborghini,” Brent commented.

“The Sesto Elemento?” Ryan inquired. “I’ve heard the use of carbon fiber is decreasing the weight of the car substantially. It should practically fly with that horsepower to weight ratio.”

“I keep forgetting you’re interested in cars,” Brent hummed.

“Who wouldn’t be?”

“Because everyone I’ve ever dated doesn’t care about that stuff.”

“But, it’s important!”

“I don’t know. I think I’d rather know if I can make out in it.”

“Really?” Ryan laughed.

Brent smiled, embarrassment in his face.

“Don’t you need someone to help you out with that?”

“Yeah.” The way Brent bit his lip made Ryan’s stomach flip.

“I mean, I would love to help.” Ryan’s voice wavered.

“We should have a control group,” Brent stated.

“Yeah.”

“And then, do multiple tests.”

“Strictly for data related purposes.”

“Of course.”

 

They made out in a car that was worth more than a semester of Ryan’s college.

 

And they made out again in a car probably two or three times that amount again.

 

Their wedding was brief, with very few people invited. Ryan’s mother cried. His father was nice. Brent’s mother and father were very accepting of Ryan’s family, even though they were poorer than anyone they’ve ever seen before.

Brent’s arm was secure around Ryan as they waltzed together.

Their honeymoon of exploring the world was breathtaking.

Time flew by.

And it was incredible.

Ryan loved every moment. He loved every second. And he loved Brent.

 

A year of marriage was perfection. The mansion was finished. They threw parties. They spent their days lounging and their nights together. Ryan was able to buy whatever he wanted. Brent was able to work from home.

It was beautiful.

 

And then the year ended.

And Brent got bored.

 

Ryan saw it coming from a mile away.

Brent was cheating on him.

With five people. Four months after their first anniversary.

 

Ryan spent the next few days crying himself to sleep as his heart ripped into pieces.

 

He was ignored.

They would have breakfast and dinner together, sitting at the opposite ends of the long dining table.

They talked about the weather and how work was going and what Ryan did that day. Brent didn’t care. He would go and fuck some tramp that he had found at their last party.

So, Ryan was starved for attention but still nurturing his decaying heart, spent Brent’s money on what he wanted.

 

When Brent died, Ryan had no emotion.

 

All he felt was

 

_freedom._


	3. passion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> O M G MY FAVE SHYAN FIC WRITER FUCKING KUDOS THS I M M M MM CRYI NNGNG  
> Lafayette1777 aH HH H H HH  
> -"The Chain" was fucking beautiful and if someone hasn't fucking read it, who are you? do it you won't regret it -> http://archiveofourown.org/works/12629253?view_full_work=true  
> I'm honored to have deemed a kudos like h o l y sh i t 
> 
> -Also, another quick rec (while I'm in the mood even though this person doesn't know who I am) , "Gratia Plena" by fictionalhistory  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/12822204?view_full_work=true  
> it deserves wayyy more praise. it's beautifully written. so, when I'm not uploading shit cause I suck at writing quickly, read thESE AND COMMENT AND KUDOS AND SUBSCRIBE TO THESE PEOPLE

Shane and Sara were surprised to see Ryan Bergara-Bennett open the large wooden doors in front of them.

They thought one of the many butlers and maids would make it to the door instead. 

Yet, there stood the husband of the millionaire, wearing a black satin robe with long sleeves that were tipped with soft pink feathers. His robe reaching the floor and continuing to be outlined with the fluffy material. His tan skin standing out from the clothing and accenting his red, worried eyes. He seemed tired, yet completely wired at the moment. 

And he still managed to look flawless. 

“I’m Officer Sara Rubin and this is Detective Shane Madej,” Sara stated at the quick lapse in conversation. “We’re here about the call you made this morning.”

“Oh thank God,” Ryan sighed, stepping aside and holding the door open. “Please come in.” Sara stepped in first, letting Shane follow behind her. “I apologize for my appearance. I haven’t been able to do anything this morning.”

“There’s no need to apologize, Mr. Bennett,” Sara said, her tone softer than Shane expected. “You must be in shock due to the circumstances of this.”

“Can you take us to the scene and gather your staff?” Shane inquired, looking around the surprisingly empty halls.

“Of course,” Ryan walked quickly from behind Shane to be in front of Sara. He led them through the house with fast steps, his ease to get around the house was slightly startling to the two officers. Shane almost lost his breath as they walk up the expensive staircase.

“So, who found the body?” Sara inquired as they trekked along.

“I did,” Ryan replied, almost distantly.

“Oh, I’m….sorry,” Sara sputtered. 

“No, don’t be,” Ryan’s tone was off and almost desperate. “I’m glad none of my staff had to witness such a thing.” 

“How thoughtful,” Shane mused.

“I’d rather them not have to see such a horrid image,” Ryan stated. “It’s...I’ll never be able to unsee such a sight.”

“I apologize,” Sara started. 

“Please,” Ryan turned to look at her. “The apologies have already started to become unnecessary. I just need you to figure out what happened to my husband. As much as I know you want to seem sympathetic, I know you’re here for a job.” 

“How big is the staff?” Shane butted in, noticing Sara’s frightened frown. She was used to screaming women and brutal men breaking down. Ryan seemed to be ready to move on from such a dramatic phase.

Interesting.

“Normally, I’d tell you it would be impossible to interview all of them within a day,” Ryan remarked, the sudden change in subject causing relief to trickle into the conversation. “But, we don’t like keeping a large staff overnight. There are very few that come early in the morning.”

This caused Shane and Sara to relax. Thank the Lord that they didn’t have a whole day wasted towards interviews.  

“Here’s the room right here,” Ryan paused in front of a spotless closed white door. 

“Did you touch anything?” Shane asked, watching Sara put on rubber gloves. 

“Only the doorknob,” Ryan responded. “After seeing the body, I made sure to keep it how it was.”

“You seem awfully calm about this,” Sara remarked.

Ryan flinched at the statement. “I know I’m still in shock. It’s not the first time I’ve experienced it.” This caused Sara’s eyes to widen. “I’ll deal with all of the emotional stuff later. This...is more important.” 

“‘This’ being?” Shane’s question earned him a hit to the shoulder his partner.

“Dealing with the….dead..body in one of my bedrooms.” Ryan’s voice cracked on the word he barely managed to say, causing a chill to run down Shane’s spine.

The person in front of him was holding serious emotional damage; a ticking time bomb that would soon explode. 

His chestnut eyes were dim and unfocused. 

“We’ll check this out,” Sara said, breaking the heavy silence that had come over the trio.

“I’ll gather the staff,” Ryan nodded. 

“If any other officers come in, please let them up,” Shane stated.

Ryan nodded once more to acknowledge Shane’s order. He breezed past them, his robe softly hitting Shane’s leg. 

“Alrighty, time to start the fun,” Shane hummed as Sara gripped the door.

“With statements like that, I sometimes wonder how you never became a homicidal maniac,” Sara grumbled.

“Just open the door,” Shane sighed. 

 

The scene in front of them was definitely more than “found dead in bed”.

 

Brent’s body was on it’s back in the middle of the large bed. Blood was everywhere, staining his clothes and the once-white sheets. The pillows surrounding him were coated with the substance.

His eyes were open, staring at the ceiling behind glasses. 

“Holy shit,” Sara whispered.

“Homicide,” Shane muttered.

“That’s not what I expected,” Sara responded. 

“It looks like it was passion-based,” Shane started mumbling to himself. He almost stepped into the room before Sara forced plastic boot covers over his shoes. He mosied into the room putting rubber gloves on as he surveyed the place intently. 

Blood seemed to be only on and around the bed. There were no signs of a struggle anywhere else in the room. The shining dressers around the room that contained picture frames and glass figures were completely unharmed.

Shane’s gaze flickered up. The ceiling was a mirror.

He made eye contact with himself and then with the dead man in front of him.

“Definitely passion,” Shane grumbled. “It’s bloody, yet there’s no struggle.”

“Do you think he may have been dead before all the blood?” Sara offered, stepping into the bedroom.

“Well, they had to inflict outwards wounds here, because the pools and amount of blood make moving the victim to this place after such trauma impossible.”

“We still don’t know how he died.”

“Should we get closer to the body?”

Sara walked slowly up to the corpse. “The lacerations seem to suggest stab wounds. A multitude of them.”

“Passion.”

“Stop saying that,” Sara growled. “It’s annoying.” 

“So, did anyone hear any screams or sounds that were unnatural?”

“What if no one says they heard anything?”

“We know then that the stab wounds weren’t his undoing.” 

“And if they heard something?”

“Then we know there’s more to this scene that meets the eye.”

Sara nodded, looking at Shane pensively. 

Shane just crouched on the floor, looking at the very few spots on it. “It’s very contained.”

“What’s contained?”

“The blood. It’s not all over the floor, nor are there any flecks on the ceiling.”

“Why would there be blood on the ceiling?” 

“Think about the upwards motion of the knife. If it was a long monotonous stabbing, don’t you think some blood could shoot up into the air onto the ceiling and/or arc over the bed to the floor?” 

“So, you think this was done quickly?”

“The stabbing. Not necessarily his death.”

“You think it’s murder?”

“I don’t think,” Shane stood, eyes still trained on the floor. His voice was flat and sounded annoyed. “I know.” 

“Don’t use that tone with me.” Sara started to look on the other side of the bed. 

“Come on, Rubin,” Shane rolled his eyes.

“It could be suicide.”

“Multiple stab wounds?”

“Yes. You must remember the many cases we read about suicides of sharp objects with multiple self‐inflicted stab wounds, i. e. the 53-year-old white male who successfully committed suicide by stabbing himself in the abdomen and chest and then driving to a church.”

“You are correct, but wasn’t there the factor of mental illness?”

“We don’t know if the victim had any mental health issues, and even if that were possible, there's the case about the 48-year-old physical therapist with no history of psychiatric disorders or suicidal tendencies.”

“Ah, but you’re forgetting one thing.”

“What?” Sara’s eyebrows furrowed. 

“The weapon,” Shane stated it matter-of-factly as if he had caught Sara in a trap. 

“What about the weapon?” Sara narrowed her eyes. 

“All the weapons in these cases about self-inflicted stab wounds were recovered on the scene. Where’s the weapon that inflicted these wounds in this room?” 

“Logic would point to the hand of the victim.”

“Brent Bennett was commonly known for being right-handed, which is the side of the bed I am on.” Shane waved his hand over the body’s right side. “And there’s nothing here.”

“It could’ve fallen on the floor.”

“Which I’ve already checked.”

Sara sighed. “That’s why you made the remark about the blood being contained.”

“Precisely.” Shane smirked, adding a mental point to their nonexistent scoreboard between the two.

“Ryan could’ve lied about not touching the scene?”

Shane rolled his eyes at Sara’s inability to take a loss. “Why would he lie and why would he mess with the murder weapon if it’s what you say it is?”

“You know about the stigma around suicide. I mean, a huge billionaire like Brent Bennett just up and committing suicide is huge and definitely would garter bad attention.”

“People don’t look at a bloody corpse with a knife in their hands and think about attention. They're more concerned about what happened to the victim. So, if Ryan were to mess with the crime scene, it would only make him look like a murderer, which completely changes the mentioned attention.” 

Sara frowned and looked down at the body. “We’ll know soon enough,” she grumbled. 

“Just take the loss, Sara,” Shane smirked, moving to the nearby dresser. 

“It’s not a loss if we don’t know what transpired,” Sara retorted.

Shane was about to respond but there was a cough from the doorway.

“I brought coffee?” Zach’s tone was soft. 

Shane sighed and rolled his eyes as he kept himself facing the dresser. 

“Thank you,” Sara’s voice was light and lilting. She walked over and took a cup. “Shane?”

“I already had some, in fact, there’s a cup by the door which was the coffee I was just drinking,” Shane huffed, turning slowly to face the two at the door. “But, it’s most likely that you forgot to get yourself a cup.”

Zach’s eyes widening and sudden embarrassment flooding to the tips of his ears validated Shane’s statement. 

“Go ahead and drink the one you got for me,” Shane ordered nonchalantly. 

Zach gave Shane a gracious look before taking a small sip of the coffee.

“Besides the coffee, what else did you bring?” Shane inquired. 

“Oh! Sorry,” Zach turned. “I brought up forensics. They were just behind me?”

Shane sighed while Sara gave Zach an awkward smile. 

“Whoops,” Zach shrugged, the tips of his ears once again darkening.

“I’ll go check the staircases,” Sara huffed. “Zach, join me.”

“I’ll watch over the dead body,” Shane said. “Make sure it doesn’t get up and walk away.” 

Shane heard Sara chuckle at his joke, as he then turned in the doorway. 

_ Homicide. Multiple stab wounds. And a millionaire. This is going to be an interesting case. _

He didn’t hear the swish of silk hitting the floor until a hand was on his shoulder. He jumped, spinning wildly.

Ryan stood behind him, his eyes soft. He offered a small red box. “You left this here.” 

Shane gripped it, opening the top. His silver tie pin stared back at him. “I-” Shane started.

“Don’t worry,” Ryan interrupted. “No one saw it. And, even if they did, you left it here after getting to know a woman who looked suspicious.”

Shane gulped and looked straight into Ryan’s eyes. 

They both knew the word coming out of Ryan’s mouth were bullshit.

“Thank you,” Shane hummed, slipping the box into an inside coat pocket. 

“I’m sorry we had to meet again under such circumstances.”

“I….Yeah. Me too.”

They stayed there, poised in silence, unable to muster up words.

“Um,” Shane stammered. “Thank you. For, uh, not, y’know, talking about this in front of Sara. She’d….probably kill me.”

Ryan smirked. “It’s fine. I get it.”

Silence lapsed again over the two.

“I’ll go,” Ryan quickly blurted, stepping back and looking down. “I don’t want to worry my staff.”

“Yeah,” Shane said, dumbly. 

“I guess I’ll see you in the interviews.”

“Yes. You will.”

Ryan’s robe swished around as the man turned to walk away. Shane watched the feathers drag softly on the floor. 

_ God damn it, he’s a suspect in this murder case, Shane. Get it together. You’ve never met before.  _

_ Never. _


	4. a party (pt. 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MERRY CRISIS!!!  
> since I've had this completed for a while, I decided why not post it?!?!?  
> I've been on vacation so sorry for the lack of any content, honestly, I've been b u s y. 
> 
> REAL QUICK! Here's another recommendation!!!  
> "your body, (draped in crimson)" by bruised_ppeach is AMAZING!!!  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/13038714/chapters/29828856  
> -I LOVE THEIR STYLE  
> -it's low-key based on the Moulin Rouge soundtrack which is my literal favorite thing.  
> -AND IT:S REALLY GOOD SO GO CHECK I T OUT!
> 
> alright enjoy this part one folks!!

They had met before.

It was one of Bennett’s extravagant parties a year or two ago. Brent had called the police and paid for protection, due to the recent threats that had been made to him.

“The superiors want you two there,” Andrew had hummed, giving them another paperwork-filled file.

Sara had rolled her eyes and Shane had huffed. Another stupid job where they stay outside the house all night, watching rich people get drunk.

“But, they want you inside the house,” Andrew stated.

That piqued their interest.

“What do you mean ‘ _inside the house_ ’?” Sara inquired.

“Like, undercover?” Shane added.

Andrew just nodded.

“Well, fuck,” Sara grumbled. “I have to get a dress now.”

“I don’t even know if I have a good tux,” Shane frowned.

“I’ll be staking out around the exterior of the house,” Andrew said. “So, make sure you guys have a lot of fun without me.”

* * *

Shane hated ties and tie pins, mostly because he had no idea how to wear them. Most of the time, he’d leave the top buttons open on his shirt and call it good. The only reason to wear a stupid tie was for such a lavish party where the booze was watered down and the people there only spoke of money.

Sara had bought a beautiful silver dress and did her hair. “I hated every minute of it,” She quipped. “And I can’t believe we’re doing this. I’m an officer of the law.”

“And I’m a detective, yet I’m acting like a spy,” Shane shrugged.

They were given two tickets and a driver, Andrew would follow them along with a few other officers for protection. Sara was busy on her phone the whole ride up, while Shane debated on whether or not he’d get drunk. He was “at work” but this really wasn’t his scene.

Shane didn’t know what to expect when he walked into the mansion. Its large open foyer was absolutely stunning. Sara’s hand gripped Shane’s arm tightly.

“Try not to be too antisocial tonight,” she whispered. “We’re trying to pretend like we belong here.”

“I’m only here to support you,” Shane replied. “I don’t think it matters what I do.”

Sara groaned. “Come on, Shane. Talk to at least one other person.”

“I’ll try my hardest not to.” Shane chuckled as Sara sighed deeply.

They were shown to the ballroom. Which was crazy.

A whole ballroom inside a house? Who would actually be able to afford it and build it?

Apparently, Brent Bennett.

Shane felt his stomach drop as they walked into the huge room that had ornate light fixtures and lavish curtains over the floor to ceiling windows. There were a few tables set up around the perimeter and the middle was populated with people dancing. The chatter was as loud as the live band that was set up on the opposite side of the room.

Shane was at a loss for words.

“Shit,” Sara hissed. “This is the real deal.”

“Yep,” Shane nodded blankly.

“We’re fucked.”

“Totally.”

“Well, I’m going to go around the perimeter and try and speak with people.”

“I’ll keep a lookout for anyone suspicious?”

“Good call.”

They split up once they reached the floor, and Shane, being Shane, went immediately to the alcohol. He gripped a small glass of champagne as he tucked away into the corner near a window. He almost finished it before his eye was caught by someone walking into the ballroom.

At first, Shane thought the white dress belonged to some woman that wanted to take center stage, but then he realized that it was no woman.

It was Ryan Bergara-Bennett.

He walked confidently down the steps into the belly of the ballroom, his formal white dress curving along his sides as the bottom flared out and dragged along behind him. He wore diamonds around his neck and in his ears. A white rose was softly placed in his dark hair. He looked so tan and lean in such an outfit.

Shane wondered how a man could look so good.

He could even see the twinkle of Ryan’s wedding ring on his finger.

People moved out of his way after greeting him, mostly by shaking his hand or bowing their heads. He parted the seas and walked over to the table that held the champagne. The one Shane was next to.

He stepped back, hoping that somehow he would disappear into the rich red curtain behind him.

Ryan reached the table and grabbed a glass, talking with a person beside him. He was only a few feet away at this point. Maybe Shane could bow and skitter away and try and find Sara, because she would definitely laugh at his obvious fawning over a billionaire’s husband.

Ryan’s head turned.

Their eyes met.

Shane’s heart stopped for a moment as he locked eyes with Ryan.

He felt his cheeks warm slightly and he looked away, breaking the small electric shock that ran through his veins.

He watched the band and tried to forget his heart’s antics. His leg bounced while his stomach flipped. His eyes flashed back as he kept his face turned.

Ryan’s eyes were still on him.

Ryan’s lips pulled up into a smirk.

Shane’s knees felt weak.

Shane gulped and looked back at the band.

_Why was he looking at me? Why did he smile? Should I have smiled back? But it wasn’t a smile, it was a smirk. Like a grin. Like some stupid teen romance movie where the jock looks at the nerd girl and gives her-whatever that was. Like some-_

“Hi.”

Shane’s head snapped forward.

Ryan Bergara-Bennett stood directly in front of him, his head at an angle and his eyes flicking up and down Shane’s form.

Shane had no words due to them being sucked out of his body by some magical force.

“I’m sorry,” Ryan smiled, looking down. “It’s just, you look like a detective from an old noir movie.”

“What makes you say that?” Shane manages to push out.

“Well, you’re standing in to corner with a flute of champagne while there’s a whole party going on,” Ryan explained. “You seem lonely.”

“Old noir detectives are cool, right?” Shane responded, trying to joke.

Ryan cracked a larger grin. “Depends on the context.”

“Then, let’s entertain such context.”

“Well, you don’t seem to be James Bond, so you’re already lacking.”

Shane let out a soft _‘ha’_ at Ryan’s statement. “James Bond isn’t noir.”

“And neither is this party, so why are you living in such a fantasy?”

Ryan got him there. “Maybe I’m surveying the landscape, ready to strike at any moment.”

“Now you just sound like a predator.”

Shane couldn’t help but exhale sharply out his nose, trying to hold in a laugh. Wow, he’s witty, too.

“So, why aren’t you dancing and talking, or at least not standing like a statue in the corner?”

“Simple,” Shane replied. “Don’t have anyone to talk or dance with.”

Ryan gave Shane a look that tripped Shane up for a moment. “So, I’m apparently not talking to you?”

“No! Wait…” Shane tried to respond but drew a blank as Ryan chuckled at Shane’s inability to reply.

“You’re something else,” Ryan hummed after his laughs died down.

He had a really nice smile; Shane didn’t know that a smile could look that good. _What the fuck was wrong with him?_ He was acting like a ten-year-old with a stupid crush on their really popular, handsome classmate. He was sweating and his stomach was torn to shreds as butterflies ripped his insides.

Could a man die from nonexistent butterflies?

Has a man died from nonexistent butterflies?

He could be the first.

“Seriously though,” Ryan started. “Do you even know how to dance?”

“Um, excuse me. These long legs you see here, are dancer's legs.”

Ryan laughed at this, a small wheeze coming out before his laughter.

“And they are quite good at moving.”

“I bet they are.”

Shane doesn’t know what to say. Oh God, how does he reply?

“You should show me.” Ryan’s tone was playful, almost flirtatious.

It makes Shane’s cheeks heat slightly.

“Only if you don’t mind dancing with me.”

“I would love to,” Shane blurted.

Ryan genuinely smiled at Shane’s response, which made Shane’s heart flutter and his stomach churn.

“Mr. Bennett,” a voice stated, drawing Ryan away from Shane. A butler in a suit and tie stepped beside Ryan and whispered into his ear. “One of the investors are here. Brent requests your presence.”

Ryan’s smile dropped with a sigh. “Okay, I’ll be with them in a moment. Tell him I’m on my way.”

The butler nodded before heading away from the two.

“I’m sorry,” Ryan stated, pushing a fake grin that didn’t reach his eyes onto his face. “I’ve been summoned.”

“A rain check for that dance?” Shane inquired.

Ryan’s eyes suddenly flashed with softness at Shane’s instant understanding. “That would be wonderful.”

“I shall continue to wait right here, then. Hopefully, I’ll have had more champagne when you see me again.”

Ryan stifled a laugh. “I’ll be back, old noir detective.”

Shane let the giddy feeling wash over him as Ryan turned and disappeared into the crowd.

Shane snagged another glass of champagne after he finished the one in his hands. He continued to stand in the corner, watching the dancing bodies. Songs passed by slowly, causing Shane to sigh and groan as the night seemed to continue for forever. Was it bad that he just wanted to see Ryan again?

“Andrew says they found some crazy dudes trying to break into the south side of the house,” Sara’s sudden voice almost caught Shane by surprise.

“Really?” Shane asked, turning to speak to the shorter officer.

“Yeah,” she shrugged. “They were able to handle it. There’s no need to alarm anyone, because it just seemed like a bunch of drunk idiots that wanted to defame Bennett’s property.”

Shane hummed.

“How are you?”

“Terribly sober and bored out of my mind. How about you?”

“Same, except, I got to meet some insanely rich old men that I could somehow bait to be my sugar daddy.”

Shane chuckled at Sarah’s statement.

“Listen, I’d give anything to be this rich.”

“What would you even use the money on?”

“A new uniform and better equipment. My walkie is still damaged from the drug-busting job we did in San Antonio on our, quote, ‘vacation’, unquote.”

“Isn’t that tech’s job to fix?”

“Yup. Bunch of lazy interns can’t just put the time into fixing a goddamn walkie-talkie.”

“No need to get heated over one piece of equipment, Sara.”

“It’s been months, Shane.”

“Put a formal request in.”

“I’ve done that three times now.”

“Complain to Office Perez. She always manages to get her equipment fixed in a matter of days.”

“Because she’s sleeping with the tech superior.”

“Isn’t everyone sleeping with everyone at the office?”

“You’re not wrong.”

Shane shrugged at that and took a sip champagne.

“Alright, any suspicious activity?”

“Not that I’ve observed.”

“I’ll head over to the other side of the ballroom and continue making rounds. See you later.”

“Adios. Go get yourself a sugar daddy.”

Sara laughed at Shane’s quip as she walked away.

So, the cycle of Shane standing alone in the corner started all over again. He was about halfway through his champagne when a hand touched his arm, startling him.

“You never told me your name, old noir detective,” Ryan’s voice was absolute butter in Shane’s ears.

“Shane Madej,” Shane instantly stated. “But, you can continue to call me ‘old noir detective’ if it pleases you so.”

“So, can we have that dance?” Ryan’s eager eyes burned straight into Shane’s soul.

“Where shall I put this champagne?” Shane hummed.

Ryan gripped the glass, his fingers brushing Shane’s. A shiver ran up Shane’s spine as they touched. He eased it out of Shane’s hands with no resistance and set it on a nearby butler’s tray. Then, Ryan gripped Shane’s hand and tugged him out onto the dancefloor.

Ryan’s hands were softer than velvet. They were manicured and slightly warm. Compared to Shane’s calloused and spidery hands, they were perfection.

“Do you mind me leading?” Shane asked when Ryan stopped them at a place he deemed adequate.

“I do not mind in the slightest,” Ryan’s smile brightened.

Shane felt uncertain about resting his hand on Ryan’s waist, but he had no choice since Ryan sensed the apprehensive mood and led Shane’s hand down. Shane gripped Ryan’s other hand, letting Ryan’s rest on top of his. The hand that had led Shane’s to his hip now resided softly on Shane’s shoulder.

Shane’s heart thudded.

They started to step to the music.

Shane looked down, making sure that he didn’t step on Ryan’s feet.

“Is there something interesting down there?” Ryan inquired.

Shane’s head instantly snapped up.

Their eyes met and Shane’s heart palpitated.

Brown was color that was truly underappreciated. It seemed to be absolutely stunning in Ryan’s eyes.

“Is there seriously something interesting down there?” Ryan asked again, a grin entertaining his features.

Shane’s tongue was tied.

Ryan tilted his head, confused about Shane’s inability to answer.

“Sorry, I got lost,” Shane stuttered out.

“Now what do you mean by that?”

“Well, I got lost in your eyes.”

Ryan’s cheeks blushed slightly. “That’s cheesy.”

“I have to say I enjoy cheese. Gouda’s my favorite.”

Ryan laughed, the soft vibrations reverberating in Shane’s fingertips.

Shane could only smile at the beautiful man in front of him.

“You’re so….” Ryan struggled to find a word.

“Weird? Tall? Humorously attractive, which means I’m only attractive due to my humor?” Shane supplied.

“Entrancing,” Ryan answered.

“I could say the same about you.”

“You’re not these boring people that only want my money or something _else_ from me.”

The suggestion caused Shane to gulp and look away, a blush being supported on his cheeks.

“And if you are, you’re a really good actor. I have to say, I’m impressed.”

“No, I’m not here for any of the listed things.”

“Then why are you here?”

The question thudded in Shane’s brain. He made a wrong step and clumsily tripped to the side. Ryan’s strong arms leveled him, righting him back into place.

“Sorry,” Shane cursed his lanky legs for getting tangled up.

Ryan just grinned. “It’s fine. I guess I sounded very accusatory in that line of questioning.”

“No, I understand,” Shane nodded. “This world you live in isn’t all diamonds and champagne. Your hesitation towards me is warranted.”

“But, you’ve been nothing short of kind and making such nice conversation,” Ryan hummed. “You’re motives are just unclear to me.”

“I thought you’d be a stuck-up princess,” Shane stated, bluntly. “However, after speaking with you, you seem to be gracious and human.”

“I’m flattered, old noir detective.”

“Why did you talk to me if you’re puzzled about my motives?”

“Do you believe in fate?”

Shane rolled his eyes at such a question. “No.”

Ryan sighed. “Well, I do, and I think fate led me to speak with you. You looked all alone and so bored, which is how I often feel at these events. My interest sparked and now we’re dancing together.”

“That’s called simple curiosity,” Shane retorted.

Ryan frowned. “Shut up, Shane.”

Shane liked his name perched on Ryan’s tongue. He liked how it rolled off, the sound feeling like a dollop of honey dripping off a spoon. Even though the words held malice, there wasn’t any true intention behind them. It felt playful, whimsical and slightly provocative.

The music changed from a lackadaisical swing into a slow ballad.

“That’s All,” Ryan breathed, as the pace of their feet slowed to a sway.

Shane’s eyebrow cocked up.

“Sorry,” Ryan’s cheeks turned rosy. “It’s one of my favorite jazz ballads.”

“No need to be sorry,” Shane hummed. “It’s a beautiful song.” He noticed they had gotten closer as the piano riffed softly in the background. He could smell a soft rosy scent that he had only caught whiffs off near Ryan.

They two fell silent, letting the music wash over them. Ryan continued to look up into Shane’s tired eyes. The mild build up of tension had suddenly become almost too much. It was right on the brink of breaking open, threatening to spill over between the two.

Ryan inched closer.

Shane let him.

“You seem overworked,” Ryan commented quietly.

“I am,” Shane responded in the same volume.

“You should relax more.”

“Don’t have time.”

“Do you have any time tonight?”

“Depends on who’s asking.”

“I am.”

“I might be able to squeeze you into my schedule.”

“Are you sure?”

“Definitely.”

“Hm.”

The words they were exchanging were just adding to the layer of electricity between them; they weren’t anything of value anymore. It didn’t matter that Shane was supposed to be looking out for suspicious people. It didn’t matter that Ryan’s wedding ring was right there, sparkling for the world. It didn’t matter that they were in a huge ballroom filled to the brim of wandering eyes.

All that mattered was the closeness of the two of them and their hands intertwining. All that mattered was Ryan’s gentle eyes and delicate lips were inches away from Shane. All that mattered was Ryan’s sleek form was like silk under Shane’s hand. All that mattered was Ryan tugging him closer and closer and _closer-_

The ballad ended and the drums started up another medium tempo song, causing the mood to be ripped to shreds.

Shane and Ryan realized their position. Centimeters away. Able to inhale the others’ hot breath.

Shane backed away first, abruptly aware of all the people around them.

Ryan’s eyes seemed to fill with a spot of disappointment and Shane’s heart panged.

They swiftly exited the dancefloor, ending up near the same champagne table.

“Thank you for the dance,” Shane stated, trying to cool the suddenly awkward air.

“Thank you as well,” Ryan nodded.

There was another lull in conversation; Shane tried to find words.

“Mr. Bennett,” the same butler had appeared once more. “Brent calls for your attendance. He’s making his speech.”

Ryan huffed and shot a look at the butler. “He can’t give it alone?”

“He absolutely requires you.”

Ryan looked down. “I’ll be there in a moment.”

The butler bowed and scuttled away.

“I apologize,” Ryan stated, eyes drawing back up Shane. “He seems to get in the way of everything.”

“No, I understand.” Shane lowered his head. “Have a wonderful night, Ryan Bennett.”

“Bergara-Bennett,” Ryan blurted out of nowhere. “I hyphenated. Just, no one acknowledges it.”

“Your last name is Bergara,” Shane stated.

Ryan’s eyes smiled. “Yes.”

“Ryan Bergara.”

Ryan’s grin caused Shane’s soul to lift in his chest.

Ryan stepped right next to Shane and rolled onto his tiptoes, pressing a small kiss on Shane’s cheek. “Goodnight, Shane Madej.” His voice was a husky whisper right in Shane’s ear that made goosebumps appear on his skin.

Shane couldn’t speak. His heart thudded as Ryan strolled away.

He was so _fucked_.


	5. a party (pt. 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeAh sorry guys this chapter isn't too interesting. :S I've just been bogged down with anxiety and writer's block even though I have most of this thing planned out. it's just weird right now, so I'm posting the stuff I have so I can feel a little accomplished.
> 
> WE REACHED 100 KUDOS I NEVER EXPECTED THAT LIKE H OL . Y S HIT. i'm way too excited. ya'll this fic gotta get better l ik e THANK YOU SO FUCMING MUCH LIEK JESUS I'm SPOIlED Best Holiday Present Ever. and i know big fic writers will scoff, but YKNOW WHAT I CELEBRATE THE SMALL VICTORIES
> 
> FIC RECCOMENdATION:  
> "For whatever we lose (like a you or a me)" by Hey_There_Ghouls cause a) i'm a slut for a good mystery and b) THIS SHIT GOOD l IEK Check IT THE FUCK out  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/12647058/chapters/28820430
> 
> enjoy this shit

Shane didn’t like Brent Bennett. He didn’t know why all of sudden he had a burning hatred for this man who had done nothing to him; but, seeing the billionaire up on the stage with a microphone in one hand and a bottle of some sort in another was almost insulting. Shane had worked so hard in his life to earn the position he had at the moment. Yet, Brent Bennett had to only be born to live such a rich way. He also got Ryan Bergara to marry him after only a year of dating him. And here he was, as his own party, barely able to state a speech. His movements were sloppy and uncoordinated as he gave it, obviously drunk.

Ryan stood beside him; he was a pillar of light next to soul-sucking darkness. He shone like a pearl next to the rock that was Brent Bennett. Ryan looked at the crowd with his eyes almost unfocused as he looked everywhere but to the man beside him. Ryan could only sigh and look uncomfortable as he softly grasped his hands together.

Only a moment ago, Shane had held those hands in his own. 

“And to my wonderful husband,” Brent slurred, throwing an arm around Ryan. It was enough to make Ryan coil in on himself. Ryan’s eyes instantly focused on the floor and he stiffened under Brent’s touch.

Shane felt a flash of shameless jealous spark in his chest. He forced it downwards, pushing it into his little imaginary box of “stuff he would deal with later”. He couldn’t deal with this ominous feeling in his bones at the moment. 

Brent rose his glass with a crooked smile. “Who’s just so charming and polite….I’d like to say that you are the prettiest thing in this place.” 

Ryan frowned and looked away, suddenly looking even more uncomfortable beside Brent. The crowd gave a small chorus of “aw’s” while Ryan shifted his feet. Then, Brent leaned into Ryan, whispering something in his ear. 

Ryan’s eyes closed and his hand unconsciously came up to his earring, almost trying to protect himself from Brent. He turned his head even more and shifted his torso away. He became even more downcast by whatever Brent had decided to whisper to him. 

Brent’s hand grasped Ryan’s shoulder, which made Ryan tense as he was pulled back into Brent. 

Ryan just looked like he wanted to get out of there.

Shane frowned. 

This was not a happy marriage. And to see Ryan looking helpless against this drunk man was disgusting. 

If Shane had half a brain, he would be up there, shoving Brent off of Ryan. He’d shout profanity at the man and scold him for hurting such a beautiful piece of artwork. He’d rip that ring right off Brent’s finger with as much force as he could. He’d trash that man in any way he could.

“No sugar daddies yet,” Sara’s voice piped up from behind him.

Shane turned and stepped back. She was a sigh of relief from all of these swirling emotions in his chest. Sara was a clean palate, dependable and steady.

“Really?” Shane inquired, letting the sarcasm flood into his tone.

“Yeah,” Sara played along, “It seems like all these men are either married and/or already have younger ladies to cascade their wealth upon.”

“Sounds like a conundrum,” Shane replied, his eyes flickering back to the stage. Brent had let go of Ryan, but the shorter man stayed beside him looking downtrodden. Brent garbled through some other words in his speech that felt unimportant.

“It is.” Sara’s eyebrows folded and she followed Shane’s eye line. “What are you staring at?”

Shane instantly jumped at the question, forcing his eyes to be back on Sara. “What?” He managed to cough out.

“ _ What _ are  _ you _ staring at?” Sara repeated the question, slowing down her syllables in a comedic manner. “The drunk rich guy that keeps going on about this great new partnership or his husband that actually looks  _ really _ good in a dress?”

“Neither,” Shane dismissed. “I don’t care about any of them.”

“That’s not what I asked, smart guy.”

“I just willingly assumed the next question and answered it for you.”

“You know what they say about assuming; it makes an ass out of you and out of me.”

“No one says that except you, Sara.”

“One day in the future, when you say that phrase, I want you to look back at this moment and realize that you are  _ wrong _ .”

“I’m never wrong.”

“Not possible, smartass.”

“Y’know, with all your nicknames towards me containing the word ‘smart’, I can’t help but feel like I’m being complimented.”

“Ah, you missed the ass. Not the first time for you, I bet.”

Shane could only inhale and shake his head as a response to Sara’s statement. 

“Seriously, what were you looking at?” Sara’s intent for an answer caused Shane to look down, away from her face. “You only look with that intensity at, like, murder scenes.” 

“It would actually be a crime scene that contains homicide,” Shane retorted.

“Shut up.” Sara rolled her eyes. “Why are you acting like I’m trying to get the name of your crush at a middle school sleepover?”

“Oddly specific.”

“Stop trying to change the subject, Madej.”

Ooh, last name. She was started to get fed up with him. “I’m not  _ trying  _ to do anything.”

“What’s going on?” Sara’s eyes flashed and her smile started to drop. 

“Nothing. Nothing is going on.”

“It doesn’t feel like that at all.”

“I have no idea why you would say that because nothing is going on.”

“Shane Madej.”

“Are you trying to intimidate me?”

“Tell me what the hell is making you act like this.”

“Like what? I was born this way, Sara. I’m not acting like anything but myself.”

Sara opened her mouth, ready to reply but was interrupted by Brent shouting, “ _ Let’s get back to the par-tay!! _ ”

The band started back up and Sara huffed, during which Shane checked his peripherals. Ryan and Brent went off the stage together, but not touching. Brent seemed to be reaching for the other, but Ryan dodged every attempt. 

Sara’s hand yanking on Shane’s collar lapel and pulling him down to her broke Shane’s distant concentration. “I better get an explanation tonight, Madej.” The words spilling from her mouth were tense and aggressive. 

Shane knew that it was honestly a useless fight. “Fine,” he conceded. “Just, calm down.”

They stayed frozen for a moment before Sara released him. Shane brushed his lapels and straightened his tie pin. 

“I’m going to run a perimeter check,” Sara said with a sigh, her tone still stiff. “See you later.”

“Alright,” Shane breathed, watching her walk away. “Alright.” He could only whisper to himself, trying to steady the whirlwind of thoughts that he was having. 

He started to walk back to the champagne, wondering if a drink would help this crisis. Maybe it would calm him down and stop him from being distracted by some pretty married man that was witty and humble. Maybe his mind would just catch back up with the rest of him and let it go. Sara only got like that when she was worried and the last thing Shane wanted to do was to make her upset. 

Before he reached his position, through the crowd of people, Ryan’s eyes caught his.

And once more, Shane was pushed under the lapping waves of whatever Ryan caused him to feel. 

He could only inhale at Ryan’s melancholy expression. 

It was at times like this he was reminded that he wasn’t some machine; where his heart sped up and knees weakened and his mind melted into putty.

He was liquid trying to shape himself into Ryan’s glass cup, hoping that he fit and hoping that it would be half full. He wanted Ryan to shake off Brent’s toxic hold on him. He craved for  _ something more  _ to happen between them. 

They both turned away at the same time. 

* * *

The night was uneventful.

Sure, Shane had caught a person trying to sneak into another part of the house to steal something from Brent Bennett, but it was only a petty thief that caught enjoyment from saying that he was the real-life “Robin Hood”. Shane had noticed he had been pretty shady after watching him pickpocket guests for a while. Then, he caught him in a matter of moments after the thief tried to slip out of the ballroom.

He was able to handle such an easy case on his own and even if he needed her, he wasn’t going to look for Sara. Yet, she managed to find him while he was trying to deal with the stolen money and jewelry. 

“We’ll tell them as they leave,” Sara hummed. “We have to keep pieces for evidence.” She had calmed down by this point; her voice was steady and certain.  

“Thanks,” Shane could only respond with one word. 

They forced him into one of the many cop cars and Andrew stated that he’d take it from there. 

Sara was quiet as they walked back up the stairs into the mansion. 

Shane felt the awkward air curl his stomach. 

“I’m sorry,” Sara hummed when they reached the top. 

Shane just looked over at her, unable to draw up words to reply. 

“I kinda blew up,” she said. “And it’s only because I’m psychoanalyzing everything and recently you’ve been very-I don’t know….weird?”

“I’ve always been weird, Sara.”

She rolled her eyes at the joke. “Your behavior is different. And I don’t know if I did something? Or maybe I didn’t help when I should have-”

“Sara, don’t blame yourself for my weirdness.”

“I-”

“Seriously, I’ve haven’t been sleeping well….and you know, this whole ‘party’ thing isn’t my style.”

“It isn’t mine, either.”

“Yeah. So, I guess I’m just out of it, alright? Don’t take this all on yourself.”

“I don’t know-”

“I swear to you, Sara,” Shane made sure to lock eyes with her. “I’d tell you if it was something I couldn’t deal with.”

Sara sighed. “Okay. Just...don’t be too proud to reach out for help.”

“Will do.”

They walked in through the front doors once more, Shane letting the trickle of relief wash down his body.

Sara and Shane were the unstoppable team in the force. The best detective/police officer duo to ever grace this area. They didn’t have problems-it wasn’t like them to ‘have problems’. They only bickered for the sake of having logical arguments; it was never meant to damage their partnership.

So, this felt better. Sara at his side after catching a criminal. He didn’t like her angry at him or worried about him. This was  _ normal _ .

But what wasn’t normal, was this longing in his soul for Ryan Bergara that still persisted. 

This was a child-like emotion; a crush if he could use such crude wording. 

He didn’t get crushes. He didn’t like people like that. And if he did, it could easily be shut down. It interfered with his work, more importantly with his partnership. He couldn’t let anyone come in between them or get jealous that he was around her every minute of every working day. 

And Ryan Bergara was getting in the middle of all of it.

“I’m sorry, too.”

Shane’s words made Sara pause in the middle of the hallway. “For what?” She asked, a frown on her face. 

“I think I’m….I don’t know.” Shane scratched his neck as the feeling of embarrassment rushed into his stomach. 

“What does that mean?”

“I think I actually enjoy someone else’s company.”

Sara’s eyebrow cocked with amusement. “Shane Madej actually has feelings?”

“And they’re really distracting me.”

Her mouth twitched with the urge to smirk. 

“So,” Shane looked down. “I’m sorry that I’ve been sidetracked and that my priorities were compromised.”

Sara inhaled and gripped Shane’s forearm. Shane had to look up at her, and suddenly her eyes were diamonds: hard and sparkling. “You should let yourself be distracted. You’re so tense and calculating and precise and  _ stressed _ .” She smiled when she said, “Stop being so in your head and just  _ let go _ .”

Shane could only blink as her advice flowed through his head. He hummed in response, his lapse in ability to form words hitting him once again.

“So, who’s the lucky girl?” Sara adopted a childish tone and moved her shoulders.

Shane’s eyebrows furrowed at the question.

“Guy?” Sara inquired.

Shane didn’t reply, looking down to avoid the question.

“Guy,” Sara smirked. “Well, congratulations! Welcome to the feelings club! We knew you’d join us eventually.”

“Shut up, Sara,” Shane grumbled, letting her guide them back to the ballroom. 

* * *

The party ended gradually. It’s conclusion unfurling slowly as guests started to leave slowly through the front door. Ryan and Brent stood perched at the door together, both waving goodbye to everyone with gracious smiles and kind words.

Shane stared at how Ryan only dropped his guard when there seemed to be no one looking at him. He appeared exhausted from the amount of all the pretending he was doing. His beaming smile falling and small sighs escaping from his mouth when Brent looked the other way. At those moments, he looked so tired of all the charading he had done like all the money and fame wasn’t worth the trouble.

But then, another guest would come up to leave and Ryan would return to his false cheery state.

Sara noticed him staring again.

She just gave him an almost knowing look from beside him as they stood in the hallway side by side. They were supposed to be checking if any more guests had done anything like stealing or general threats, but Sara knew Shane was busy with his own thoughts.

The last few drunk guests were gathered together by the staff, piled into cars that had been called up. That’s when Sara patted his shoulder and snapped him back to reality. “Time to go inform Brent of all that happened.”

Shane only nodded, following Sara as she approached the duo at the main doors. “Thank you so much for such a magnificent party,” she told them, bowing her head. She turned her focus to Brent. “We’re here to discuss all the details with you, Mr. Bennett.” 

“You two must be apart of the police force that I asked for,” Brent stated, his voice sounding a little soberer than before. “Please, come with me to the dining room and we’ll talk all about it.”

Ryan’s eyes flickered to Shane as looked inquisitively at the taller one. 

Shane watched Brent turn and start walking another way, Sara slowly following him.

Shane stepped carefully to be beside Ryan, waiting for the other two to be further away before asking, “Are you joining us?”

“Unfortunately, I have to help clean up a party,” Ryan answered, a smirk on his lips. “Hm, police. Not too far off from old noir detective.”

Shane looked up, noting Sara and Brent’s position. He could still see them even if they were a little ways away. He quickly delved his hand into his inner jacket pocket and then let his badge show. 

Ryan’s eyes raked across the gold surface before he read aloud in a soft tone, “Detective. Los Angeles Police.” Ryan peered up at Shane with surprise written on his face, before he broke out beaming.

Shane couldn’t help but grin back due to Ryan’s infectious smile. 

And then, he acted without thinking, Sara’s advice ringing in his ears. 

He leaned in close to Ryan’s ear and whispered, “Hope to see you soon, Mr. Bergara.” He shifted to stand straight while tucking his badge away. 

He relished in having Ryan’s complete and utter attention as Shane gave him a side eye. Ryan scanned Shane, his eyes moving quickly up and down Shane’s form. “Maybe, Detective Madej.”

Shane then left and passed Ryan’s way as he walked quickly to catch back up to his partner and their employer. He glanced back to Ryan after getting halfway there, and Ryan still stood there with his smile beaming. Shane watched him give a small wave before turning to go back to the ballroom. 

Shane would be lying if said that he didn’t check Ryan out as he walked away. 

**Author's Note:**

> twitter: @starr_chiild  
> yell at me i need BFU friends
> 
> I don't have a BFU tumblr but you can follow my main if you want.  
> @starr-chiild


End file.
